


The destiny of a great merchant (lies upon the shoulders of a shit carriage)

by dragoonsbeard



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, BAMF Merlin (Merlin), Blood and Injury, Canon Era, Druids, Good Morgana (Merlin), Merlin-centric (Merlin), Merthur - Freeform, Secret Identity, Secrets, Slow Burn, Smuggling, Underground Networks, but set with Merlin arriving a few years later, emrys - Freeform, law breaking, scorching, than he originally did, the slowest fucking burn, uther is king
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:27:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22571719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragoonsbeard/pseuds/dragoonsbeard
Summary: instead of going to camelot as his mother asked, Merlin spent his time smuggling druids through Camelot’s borders.No one would possibly suspect the sweet traveling merchant Merlin of committing crimes against the crown.Would they?
Relationships: Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 108





	1. Chapter 1

Before Emrys stood two horses who ploughed forward through a worn trail between a line of towering trees, the leather that bound the creatures to their work creaked and strained. The wooden cart they pulled groaned dangerously under the weight it held.  The warlock sat, reigns in hand begun to whisper encouragement to his beloved beasts. With a pat on the rump of his honeyed mare the man tilted his head towards his charge.

Within the enclosed space slept two elderly druids- knees much too aged to tread through such wilderness without injury. Their breaths were methodical and even, undisturbed my the racket of his rotting carriage.  Satisfied that all was well Emrys returned his attention to the road, or more in particular his destination. Camelot.

One would think that a warlock and two graying druids would never travel beyond the relative safety of Easitir. However winter was soon upon them- and the druids like most will need supplies in order to survive such months.  Emrys had never considered himself a Druid regardless of the strange awe and generosity that was offered to the warlock. Overtime the man had come to recognize his place in the magic community as rather a symbol of protection.

Thus Emrys now traveled to Camelot under the pretense of a traveler gathering goods for trade. Smuggling people of magic through borders and gathering goods for the wrongly accused. Protecting and providing. A friendly criminal against the crown.

The wheels of his carriage ground the rust on its bearings as they reached the peak of a grassy ridge. Beyond it was Camelot, the lower town bustling with people that merged into the iron gates and then the towering regal castle. In all its glory against the sky.  They approached the gate, red clothed guards in clinking chain mail spotted them from far away- no doubt by the squeal of his cart.

Merlin snorted at the sheer shifty aura he presented- it wasn’t as if he could afford a better quality carriage.

Almost immediately the guards stopped them with crossing spears and squinting expressions.

“What is your business within the city?”

Lips spreading into a sunny smile Merlin rested his reigns on the wood and lent forward to once more soothe his tired horses. “I’m here to gather supplies for this upcoming winter, the harvest hasn’t been all that plentiful this year”

Both guards nodded tersely “got anything in the back boy?”

“Just two elders from my village” he announced before quieting to exaggerated whisper “the old coots are too stubborn for their own bloody good, I tell you” Merlin pointed behind him with exasperated sigh

One of the guards stony face twitched an amused smile and waved him through. Emrys grinned in return.

Children danced about the hooves of his horses as Merlin led them up Camelots dirt entryway, Faces plump with mischief the children wove smooth wooden swords, a game of knights and Bandits they claimed whilst a by-stander admonished them. As Merlin laxed his reins in favor of a tie upon the stables, he stuck his knuckles upon the wall of his carriage.

From inside two elderly Druids stirred, Merlin hadn’t exactly lied to the Camelot guards. They were in fact here to collect supplies- if one were to omit the druid detail of course. These elders had volunteered themselves for this task, for if it went wrong it was decided the life of a young druid is worth more than an already lived soul.

Emrys launched off towards the center of this great city, eager to see its brilliance for himself. The scent of sweet scarlet apples and soft pastries distracted the warlock almost immediately. Its seller beckoned him and Merlin was no prude to deny such a delicious find. With an exchange of battered copper coins, Merlin reaped his rewards and shuffled onward- arms spilling with ripe fruit.

The great Emrys too besotted with his purchase failed to detect the figure before him. The two strangers collided

A cascade of waxy apples tumbled form Merlin's embrace, their bruised bodies spun across the dirt below- boot after boot continued to propel them underfoot of other city goers. None were aware of the fruit now crushed into earth.

Merlin who’s hands now lay buried raven locks gaped down upon the pandemonium _“My apples...”_ His horror swiftly surged into indignation “you absolute- absolute. _Prat!”_

Emrys spun to greet his offender with pursed lips and bony limbs braced upon his hips like a wronged mother. Said stranger merely blinked at the warlock as if he had suddenly sprouted two heads.

“I just spent two horrendous days bouncing round in the woods on a rotting wagon with two old bats chewing my ears off to get here- only to loose my apples. _My apples!”_ Merlin scolded “what do you have to say for yourself”

The man, soft golden hair and bewildered blue eyes countered “perhaps you should watch where you are walking. Lest you wish to loose More than a few apples”

Merlin snorted imprudently and the blond man’s expression twisted into what could only be described as lost. “Do you know who I am?”

“Why? _should I?”_ Merlin retorted as he crossed his arms in challenge

With an unmistakable scoff the man had promptly fished about a coin purse that hung at his hip. It was only now that Emrys had caught sight of his soft leather coat, sewn so expertly not a seam was to be shown. Or the sharp insignia of a gold threaded dragon upon its shoulder. A glimmer of a coin sailed into Merlins rough hands and the warlock could only gape in shock at the sight. Nestled in worn palms lay a singular _gold coin._

“For your apples- now be gone” The obviously high standing man strutted off through the crowd before he paused to look back at Merlin “Also, mind your tone. You are lucky how stupid you are or I would have done worse than send you on your way”

With that the man with the flaxen hair. Golden dragon and shining coin, Vanished beyond the masses.

That evening Merlin found himself wondering into the blacksmiths shop. With intentions to spend his glimmering coin on new bearings for the wheels of his cart. It was what he needed more than apples- it would be counter productive if his creaky carriage broke during a mad escape from execution. That wouldn’t do at all.

A woman soon entered the workstation, she held head full of bronzed curls that bounced as she made her way through the dangling iron chains and sharp instruments. She had not yet noticed Merlin who stood patiently warming his hands over the hot coals.  Eventually the woman spun in his direction- startling with a surprised shout.

“Oh!- oh sorry I didn’t see you” she smiled kindly a nervous twitch soon appearing at the side of her mouth “may I help you with something?”

The warlock nodded with his own amused grin “I’m hoping to find some bearings for the wheels of my cart, might you be who I need to see?”

Her nervous expression eased into delight “yes! Yes of course- um right” she spun once more gaze flickering over the work benches “I have a few pre made spares- though....what size are the wheels?” 

“I’m not quite sure” Merlin admitted sheepishly “merlin by the way” he stuck out his hand

“I’m gwenivre, but most people call me Gwen”

Gwen clasped his hand in hers with greeting as an inquisitive smile lit up her features. “Hmm, I haven’t seen you in the city. Passing though?”

“Uh yes..?” Merlins drawn out reply echoed throughout the empty workspace and caused Gwen to tilt her head in confusion

“I’m gathering supplies for my village, so more of a visit really”

She nodded, the conversation simply dropped off afterwards and left the two politely smiling but shifting awkwardly under the weight of silence.

“Sooo bearings???”

Without further ado the blacksmiths trilled laughter rung out. “Yes! Of course”

The sweet warm glow of the fireplace reflected upon the small number of iron wares in Gwen’s shop. Merlin for a moment could only ponder on the strange delight that the woman had for something as simple as bearings.  However that reason quickly registered by the observation of empty shelves, business must be slow for her.  The place was however expertly cared for, loved even by the sight of its cleanliness.

Gwen had returned, a few different metal rings in hand.

“I will have see your cart in order to know what you need-“ she seemed hesitant now as she fiddled with the metal peices “unfortunately I don’t have enough any pre made parts to install, that means there may be a delay for them. A few days in the least”

She shifted as she stood “to gather the materials and to make them-I understand that my services-“

Merlin’s lips widened into a toothy smile “so you’ll make them for me new! Wonderful!”

Chestnut eyes wide Gwen gawped at merlin as if he had lost a few marbles “you don’t mind?”

“Why would I? Infact-“ Merlin thrust his hand into his pocket and drew out his newly acquired golden coin “I’ll pay you up front in full if I can pick them up in perhaps a weeks time?”

Poor Gwen barely got a word in as Merlin placed the coin it her palm and begun to bid his farewells. Leaving the blacksmith bewildered and staring down at the rarity of a golden coin. That came from a strange farm boy by the name of Merlin.

“Wait! Which is your cart?”

“The best one there of course!”

It was in-fact not the best one there, but rather the most ghastly one.


	2. Chapter 2

The sound was faint, a distant whistle that grew so intensely Merlin barely registered its presence until it had flown straight past his ear. The loud thunk of the arrow as it wedged into the wood behind his head only deepened the fierce regret he now felt.  He should of taken Gwen’s word and elongated his stay in camelot for a few more days. If he had, she would have had the time to install those new bearings.

And yet, in Merlin's haste to leave the city that would surely bring about his death, he had found himself instead- clutching at his reigns on the border of essitir hollering profanities at the bandits on his tail.  The warlocks beloved horses huffed strangled cries of alarm as they ploughed through the woodland terrain - completely and utterly off the path and into the bowels of uneven ground.

The Fervent prayers which fell from Merlins lips grew only more rapid as the momentum of his cart caused him to quite literately bounce from his seat.  The mere second that he was robbed of its purchase- had felt more reminiscent of his soul departing from his body.

The ground was much steeper now and the violent jerks of his carriage only intensified along with his worries. Do not be mistaken, he may be the great Emrys- prophesied to assist in the makings of a golden age.  But by the gods! Merlin was poor! and there is under no circumstance that he could ever again suffer the hardship of purchasing another cart.

This fleeting thought appeared as quickly as it left, interrupted by the wicked crackle of a bandit as he forced his horse on a tight course- alongside Merlin's carriage.  The man was unbelievably daring, he had pushed forth through the mirrid of hostile branches that Merlin had snapped from the skies. The plummeting traps were beaten away with a blunt sword. The bandit advanced.

his looming figure clasped onto the short wooden railing a mere foot away from the warlock- he begun to climb. Discarding his stirrups the bandits face twisted into nothing short of malicious.  However, a loud crack of wooden railing as it split then crumbled into nothing was the only warning given as said bandit vanished from view. His location was quickly found as Merlin's trusty rusty cart thudded over a large mound of dead man.

It may have been cruel of him to find it amusing but Emrys was long past any empathy for psychopathic bandits, and so of course his head was thrown back. howls of maniacal laughter were an ominous addition to the carnage that was this woodland chase.

It seemed that the pitchy crackle caused the outlaws to hesitate.

Thank the goddess that merlin had delivered his elderly cargo back to the druids a few hours before, the poor elders would have expired under the stress of this situation.

The steep incline that Merlin roared down from quickly flattened into a small open clearing, the relief of finding a less perilous path was in no way soothing but rather a desperate need that settled tight in his gut. It was short lived.  As his horses belined for a break in trees his front wheel snagged before locking still with impeccably horrid timing.

The sudden stillness caused a sudden drag, which force completely unbalanced the cart. His horses fraught with danger did little but worsen the situation by straining against their leathers.  Slightly airborne whilst suffering mechanical failure- merlins carriage had drifted sideways and sliced through the soft soil like butter. The unsteady lean his cart had taken as it slid to a stop, hadremained for a few unsettled moments. Merlins body had by reflex lent in the other direction hoping with all his magical might. That he would not capsize into earth like a sinking ship.

With a a creak and grind,He landed the right way up, frazzled and eyes wider than saucers.  This gave the outlaws a perfect opportunity to advance on merlin, who suffered from shock and a pair of exhausted horses.

But it seemed that Brigid the mighty goddess was merciful and heard her child’s cries, for it was then that a barrage of red cloaked men swarmed from the trees like blood through white linen. A ring of drawn swords echoed through the clearing much like a war horn that announced a clamor of scarlet knights who enclosed upon pale faced bandits, who were pissing themselves in well placed fear.

With the wrath of a mighty kingdom the bandits were despatched, eliminated with a violent yet coordinated attack.  The battle ceased quickly and with upmost Efficiency

From the center of fallen bodies stood a man strikingly familiar to Merlin, a head of flaming gold air and a regal jaw. Obviously of importance with the way the other knights had circled about him like pups eager for its mothers milk. As this man approached, his features gained detail, and his identity was revealed.

Merlin shot forward from his bench, hand clasped the remainder of his ruined railing he all but shouted.

“You’re that-“ he squabbled for his words “Bearing buying prat!”

The blonds expression twisted into bewilderment, recognition before he eventually settled for blinking at the warlock as if he was touched in the head.

“Bearing... buying?”

The swarm of knights behind the blond watched on mystified by the careless interaction that merlin had made, but even more so at the fact that their leader did not fault the boy on his manner of speech.

“I used the gold coin- to buy new bearings for my cart”

The blonds attention then swept to the carriages rackety wheels before resting upon the bearings...The frightfully old bearings that were more close to crumbling away than ever turning again.

“Riiiigght” the man observed in a slow nod- his brows hitting his hairline

“Which haven’t been installed yet” Merlin bit out, disapproving of the tone of the strangers voice

Exasperated the man waved his hand to dismiss that particular conversation “Mightn’t I ask what your business is, traveling between the borders of camelot and assitir”

“I am a traveling merchant- who on occasion makes deliveries” Merlin supplied with a sunny (and quite possibly idiotic) grin.

“I just finished delivering winter supplies to small village- before I got chased down by those charming fellows”

Merlin pointed to the viciously bleeding corpses upon the grass

“Have something worthy to steal do you?” The blond interrogated in a nature so flippant yet stern, it seemed as if he had asked this question many a times.

The traveling merchant hummed in contemplation and fixed the man with his most innocent of manner“are you accusing me of smuggling, _Sir knight_ ” Unfortunately when Emrys ever attempted a facade of sweet indifference- he would often appear scathingly sarcastic.

The knight’s eyes narrowed dangerously “ _mind_ if we take a look.”

It was no question, but a demand. His solders were already lifting the latch of his carriage door before he had finished.

Jokes on them, Merlin already dropped off his druids and respect for authority many many stops back.

“Oh,  _please be my guest_ ”  Merlin made an exaggerated sweep of his arm as if he was beckoning a lady through a door “though if you damage my cart I expect reimbursement”

This time it was not only the blond one but the others who curled their Lips up at the frighteningly shitty state of his ride. Frankly the warlock was sure he heard a man mutter that; ‘no reimbursement could ever fix this death trap’. But Merlin must be hearing things of course.

“Nothing of import my lord”

Lord? That would indefinitely made _much_ more sense

The knights backed off and the blond one rolled his blue eyes. Probably wishing he could cuff Merlin for a crime against the crown.

“I best be on my way then” Merlin tittered and gathered worn reins in calloused hands. As a living aberration of magic and smuggler extraordinaire Merlin simply preferred to stay clear from the unfortunate attentions of _the law_. It would be a tragedy if Camelot ever discovered that he- Merlin, was the all-powerful being prophetised to bring magic back to Albion.

Unnoticed by the great Emrys who pondered such a fate, stood Arthur Pendragon. Swathed in his bloodied chain mail the prince blinked up at this gangly-dorky man, perched upon his rotting cart with an equally hideous stained cloth tied about his neck.

_Exhausting indeed._

“Yes...that would be best”

And so with a whisper of encouragement to a pair of frazzled mares, Merlin and his creaky wheels were dragged out from soft earth into solid ground.

And if the wreck of his cart groaned dangerously- Merlin paid no mind.


End file.
